He's Destined For Greatness
by MeddiEvil
Summary: It's simple really, at the age of five Philo is adopted by his father Absolom Breakspear.


Hi, this chapter is fairly short but that doesn't matter because it's more for background and to set the scene of the story. The next chapter will get into the plot and maybe start to introduce more characters.

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It had been six months since he had last seen Aisling. Six long months since his father had found out about his relationship with the Pix singer. In those six months, life seemed to have shown down for him and all the vibrancy leached out of life. Days seemed to slip into weeks and then months in one long continuous dull blur with the passage of time becoming seemingly meaningless.

That is not to say that nothing of interest happened in those six months. Quite the opposite actually. Somehow despite all the odds, his father had managed to secure him a marriage to a noble-born woman from Leonice. It was quite the feat. Where they came from the Breakspears were a wealthy and respected family however that did not translate to Burgueish standards or the standards of Leonice. By their standards, he was practically impoverished.

That what had brought him to Finistair Crossing. He was dutifully accompanying his soon to be wife to afternoon tea with one of her acquaintances from finishing school that lived with her husband on the Crossing. It was all rather tedious if you asked him, however, he was duty-bound to accompany his betrothed and he supposed it was more interesting than the tedious economics paper he had due in next week for one of his economics classes.

That's when he saw her. He was startled out of his brooding by Piety's exclamation, "A Pix! What the blazes is a Pix doing here of all places." He looked to where she was pointing - his heart stuttering to a stop when he caught sight of his dear Aisling. "She clearly doesn't work here," Piety continued to warble on, "Just look at her, she's not a maid she had no uniform and she's _pregnant _." she spat out the last word as if it were poison on her tongue. "Honestly, what is the Burgue coming to, allowing pregnant Pix to wander around a respectable neighbourhood."

He found himself unable to tear his gaze away from Aisling. Piety was right - her belly was clearly swollen with child. His child. Or at least that's what he assumed. He couldn't bear to think of her having moved on from him already. It had been true love, at least it was for him, Aisling had been - still was his whole world. She was the first thing he thought of when he woke up and the last thing he thought of when he let himself drift off to sleep. She filled his dreams and distracted him during the day. His father had called it a silly little trifle, a pacing fancy. Told him that he needed to grow up and join the real world - to stop fannying about. Guilt settled heavy as a stone in his gut. This is what she wanted to tell him why she begged to meet him after he had broken it off in a letter. She wanted to tell him that he had fathered a child.

It was one thing for a man to sleep with a Pix - a fairly common occurrence - although frowned upon, it was an entirely different kettle of fish to have a child with a Pix. Half-bloods were considered the worst of the worst, the absolute scum of the Burgue. They were considered to be something entirely unnatural that should not occur. But this child, this half-blood was his, of his own making, his own flesh and blood.

Funny how everything could change and how fast it could all change. There was a time that he could remember where humans were able to peacefully coexist alongside the Critch. Granted they had never been equal to the humans but at least they weren't treated as if they were subservient or a lesser species. He could remember the days from his childhood when the inter-species tensions were not running so high. When he was free to run around with the Puck and Centaure children of the workers on his father's farm. It was after the Pact had started to invade Tirnanoc forcing its citizens to flee and seek refuge in the Republic of the Burgue that the tensions started to rise. As the refugees started to swarm in, in increasing numbers. As their numbers increased as did the resentment that was directed towards them.

'Pull yourself together.' he berated himself internally. He was brought back to reality by Piety tugging on his arm, "We must get going. Come on Absolom," he let her pull him along, "It is most unseemly to be late.

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His head was fuzzy as he stumbled down the cobbled street. Bright light and laughter spilt out from the doorways that lined the street. His foot caught one of the uneven cobbles, he felt himself pitch forward. A strong ironclad grip around his bicep saved him from landing in a heavy heap of tangled limbs. Looking up he locked gaze with Ritter Longerbane smiling down at him, hand still clasped around his bicep. "Alright there Farmie?" There was nothing malicious in Ritter's tone or demeanour but there was still something about the other man that set him on edge. He couldn't quite place his finger on it but there was something about the other man he couldn't bring himself to trust.

Ritter was one of the many people he had been introduced to since he had been catapulted into this new life. Things had changed significantly since his engagement to Piety. He had been introduced to a whole new society and a string of new people that all seemed to follow a different set of rules to what he was used to.

It had been a total of eighteen seemingly endless months since his engagement to Piety. And tonight, tonight was his last night of freedom, the last night before he got married. His new _friends _had dragged him out for a night on the town as part of one of their 'age-old traditions' to celebrate his last night as an unmarried man.

He found his attention captivated by the faerie lights that were strung of the street between the buildings and how they reflected off the slick cobblestones. The last couple of weeks had been characterised by near-constant rainfall. They were lucky - Ritter had exclaimed at the top of his voice earlier in the night - that the torrential downpour had abated to a fine drizzle for the evening. Because - Ritter had continued - it would have been an utter shame if they had had to cancel the evening.

Slowly they had been making their way through all the bars. They were close to Carnival row to take advantage of the more seedier establishments but never venturing onto the actual Row itself. It would be scandalous for men of their standing to be caught visiting the establishments on the Row. Places of _that _nature for _that _kind were considered to be reserved for the lower classes. That's not to say that there weren't any reputable places that people of their standing could visit. After all, there were always women - Pix or Human - desperate enough to make a living no matter the means.

Although that was a treat that he had been assured was reserved for later in the night. A practice that he himself had never fully understood. He couldn't understand the desire to start a marriage and a new life in that way.

Letting himself get pulled along by the others he found them, he found them entering another bar. This was one of the more reputable and upmarket establishments on their list for the night. He could hear the familiar hypnotic voice before he entered.

In an instant he found himself transported back to being a gangly seventeen year old. To when he heard her voice for the first time. He hadn't been in the Burgue for long, just a few weeks into his degree. Some of the other lads that were on his course had decided it was a good idea to spend a night on the Row and had dragged the poor impressionable little Farmie along for the ride. From the moment he had stepped through the door he had been captivated - at first by her voice but then by her sheer beauty. She was the most beautiful creature that he had ever laid eyes on. He had met Pix before - several had worked on his father's farm - but they all paled in comparison to the beauty before him. It was only after several strong drinks and significant goading and teasing from the others that he had found the courage buried deep within himself to go and talk to her.

His face had burned red and he had felt a fool standing before her, the other men - city boys by the looks of it - nudging each other and snickering. When she had sent them away but asked him to stay his heart had surged and his head had become floaty whilst intense coursed through his veins. They had talked into the wee hours of the morning before he had, had to stumble back to the small room he rented just of the Row. From that moment the rest - as they say - was history. He kept returning night after night, their talks turning into something more. Dutifully he followed her to each new venue. Occasionally whisking her away for a weekend at his father's cabin where it was just the two of them and they could be alone for however short and fleeting of a moment that they could muster.

He had fallen hard and he had fallen fast. It was true love, he was sure of it and pretty certain that she felt the same way.

It had all gone to hell in a handbasket when his father had found out - forcing him to break it off otherwise he would have been cut off for good and both of their names thoroughly blacklisted. They would never have been able to find meaningful or gainful employment again. For him the decision had been easy - he could never live with himself if he had destroyed her career and chances in life. He had to make the hard decision but took the cowards way out - breaking it off in a letter unable to face her. A few weeks later he had received a letter from her, begging to meet one last time.

Now he knew why.

At the time he had ignored it.

That had all brought him here to the bar that he was standing in. Trying to forget what he had done but at the same time wondering what had been going on in her life. Wondering about their child. Wondering how things would have been different if he had gone to meet her when she had asked.

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"It's been five years by the martyr. Something should have happened by now. We should have something to show for it by now. Surely we should have had at least one child." Piety was already hysterical. The Doctor had just been to the house, unfortunately, he had been the bearer of bad news.

Piety had failed to conceive yet again.

He joined her where she sat on the chaize long, running his hand up and down her back in what he hoped was a comforting gesture. "Perhaps my dear, a child is not in the cards for us."

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say. She shot to her feet a new wave of anger seeming to crash over her, "But the Prophecy. The Prophecy stated that _our son _would be an even greater man. It means that we must have at least one child together." all the energy from a fraction of a second ago seemed to drain out of her in an instant sending her down to her knees, "We must have a child." she whispered, a broken sob escaping her lips.

"Perhaps," he muttered, not wanting to upset her further, "we could consider other of having a child, there's always adoption or surrogacy. There are other ways my dear." He couldn't help but think of his own child in one of those boys homes for orphans. He had maintained a casual eye on his son from a distance but his son had yet to be adopted. Now he was no longer an infant the chance of adoption was becoming an increasingly unlikely scenario, unless…

"No!" she wailed, breaking into a fresh wave of tears, "I want a child that is mine, a part of me, a child that is my own."

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Thanks for reading, please leave a review because they are a light at the end of the tunnel. Feel free to come and harass me on Tumblr at chestnut-devil. Have a great day, evening or whatever time it is for you.


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